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“Well, it’s rather brutal here. We’re advising all of our clients to invest all their resources into tinned provisions and hunting rifles.” That bit of sage advice comes from the Brain Gremlin – a genetically modified, articulate, spectacled member of the slimy Gremlin horde that overruns Manhattan’s high-tech Clamp Tower skyscraper in director Joe Dante’s madcap sequel Gremlins 2: The New Batch. On the surface, it’s nothing more than an portfolio pointer from one monster to another. But, oddly enough, it’s also remarkably sound existential counsel. Seriously, hear me out.

When situations deteriorate, the biggest mistake you can do is view events with undue solemnity. The Brain Gremlin comprehends this. In fact, most of the dentally-gifted beasts that occupy Dante’s wild 1990 film (possibly his finest) possess the same wry, meta funny bone regarding the hazy boundary separating daily routine and absolute bedlam. It’s one element of Gremlins 2: The New Batch that maintains my loyalty – and with the passage of time, it’s the theme that resonates the most.

An Early Life Obsession

Of course, my attachment to this movie didn’t start on such an deeply thoughtful note. Growing up, we only had a few battered VHS tapes at home. Included within that collection were Gremlins and its sequel, the latter housed in a chunky ex-rental box likely purchased from an non-chain rental store and sporting growling monsters on its worn-out artwork. I was instantly captivated and these films did not delay lodging themselves inside my tiny, impressionable mind. From then on, they became an practically routine part of my childhood viewing routine.

Dante’s original commonly garners all the praise, thanks largely to its reputation as a semi-scary seasonal fave – and let me be clear, I’ve watched Gremlins more times than I can count. Nevertheless, its successor seldom receives the same level of elevated esteem, which feels criminal. As a kid, I’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gremlins 2. During bright summer vacations, I’d seclude myself indoors and pop it in. When I acquired my personal TV-VHS combo unit, it continued playing looped in my bedroom. Over time, it ingrained itself in my mindset. If my parents noticed this obsession, they didn’t seem to mind.

Deeper Discoveries and Societal Easter Eggs

As I got older, new insights rewarded repeat viewings, heightening the enjoyment of watching small emerald creatures gleefully trash a New York high-rise. I learned the future-focused development mogul and Clamp Tower owner, Daniel Clamp (John Glover), was inspired directly by the later-to-be-president Donald Trump, with his auburn-haired worker Marla (Haviland Morris) referencing his former spouse Marla Maples. Fortunately, Clamp has more heart than his actual-world equivalent.

The “apocalyptic” video Clamp plays during maximum monster mayhem? I discovered it was inspired by a actual “Doomsday” video commissioned by the CNN boss Ted Turner in case the world truly faced apocalypse. I noticed how Dante went out of his way to film different iterations of a self-referential segment where Gremlins seize control of the very film you’re watching. An edit for movie houses, another for home video and television, each providing a grinning portion of meta pop-culture magic prior to the concept being mainstream.

A Persistent Influence

While it was makeup maestro Rick Baker’s gloriously nasty-looking creatures that captured my attention as a child, this hidden treasure kept me hooked as an adult. Ultimately, I even conversed with Dante about it myself and he had no hesitation informing me he made the movie with the express purpose of mocking those who loved its goofy-but-heartfelt predecessor and wanted more. “We were going to make fun of the fact you came to see it,” he happily revealed. This anarchic rebelliousness and determination to not take his sequel as gravely as his Warner Bros bosses evidently expected, only deepened my appreciation further.

When I experienced a sudden family bereavement earlier this year, I was taken aback to discover that, during my deepest grief, all I desired to do was sit and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Strange, isn’t it? Maybe not. The soothing reminiscence it furnished was needed to weaken my mind’s grief morass – but the perspectives it had given me as an adult were similarly beneficial.

Like Gremlins tearing apart a genetics laboratory, there’s some things in life you just can’t control. Dante understands this. The Brain Gremlin knows it too. Sometimes, you have to emulate them: embrace the chaos, put everything you’ve got into preserved goods and firearms and try not to approach life with excessive gravity.

It’s strong life advice from a highly unexpected fountain – and it’s the reason Gremlins 2: The New Batch will forever remain my comfort movie.